A Prisoner's Chains
by alexb49
Summary: There are all sorts of chains. Some visible. Some not. Post Sozin's comet. Jetko. Rating increased to M for third chapter. Fiction inspired by artwork as well as artwork inspired by fiction. All links in my profile.
1. Chapter 1

Too long since he had real earth under his feet. Too long since he was allowed to move through the trees.

Jet hated them. The Earth Kingdom healers who had helped his body only to have them tear at his soul by trapping him in this hole of a prison. They didn't have the stomach to simply put him down, like a wounded dog.

He would have preferred it if they had.

Instead they handed him over, hoping the Fire Nation would finish their work for them.

Cowards.

Eighteen months. Eighteen months, three weeks and two days since he had last seen the Avatar. They had thought themselves humane by waiting until he could walk again before shipping him to the Fire Nation to rot. It had been six months since the Avatar had conquered the old Fire Lord. Once the guards found out, the news had spread through the prison population like wildfire.

He held out hope, willing the Avatar and his friends to come for him. He was still waiting.

He kept himself fit. He'd pick fights from time to time even now, sometimes with his guards, sometimes with other prisoners. He told himself it was to keep him ready for battle. The guards called him insane. He kept telling them they were wrong. But sometimes he wasn't so sure.

They kept telling him the war was over. The coming of this new Fire Lord had brought with it the dawn of a new day for everyone.

Except for him.

Initially he had clung to his hatred of the Fire Nation, wrapping it around himself like a blanket. It was something that had been with him for a long time, something familiar in this terrible place. He had been thrown in solitary frequently from the constant brawling. Trapped in this cage, he was given time to think.

This was a terrible thing when you couldn't trust your own memories.

Over time his hatred had eased. His own people had betrayed him just as surely as the Fire Nation had killed his family. He realized now that he couldn't trust anyone. Including himself.

He focused on practicing his training form for twin hook swords empty handed. There was no way they would trust him with even blunt utensils. He could feel the rough leather grips in his hands as he moved in the tiny confines of his cell.

The guards were unusually busy this morning. He tried to ignore them but caught whispers of conversation echoing on the pockmarked stone walls as they passed.

"Why is he coming here?!? Why in the name of Roku would he be coming here of all places? And requesting to see some crazy Earth Kingdom bastard?"

"Who knows? All I know is that the warden's going to have all our heads if anything goes wrong."

Something was up. He had no idea what they were talking about and he was not exactly on their good side to ask about it.

He pushed the questions to the back of his mind to allow him to finish the form. He gathered himself into the form's closing movement, took a deep breath, and swallowed the chi he had gathered during his practice to finish. The sword forms helped moved the energy within him, becoming externalized through the weapons he should have been holding.

Benders had everything handed to them on a platter, he thought bitterly. The chi moved through their bodies easily, at first even without conscious thought. Normal people had to work much harder to learn to manipulate that energy.

Jet was used to things not being easy.

The heavy door to his cell creaked open loudly. Hmm. It wasn't feeding time and he was still stuck in solitary for another week. Something was up.

A slightly rotund guard stood in the doorway, gritting his teeth. He had hated Jet ever since Jet had broken his hand three months ago.

"Stand back from the bars!" the fat man barked at him. He had a billy club drawn, ready to use it.

Compliant for curiosity's sake, Jet backed away from the metal bars separating the two of them. He threw himself at the thin mattress on his bunk and sprawled there casually, as if he were taking in the sunshine on a pleasant afternoon.

The fat man growled at this. "We're going to have to teach you some respect."

"Stand down, Jiro!" Jet furrowed his brow at the sound of the voice barking that command. The warden was paying him a surprise visit.

Things were getting more interesting.

The warden was a short middle aged man with a full beard and sideburns. Jet had many a punishment handed down by the man for transgressions both real and imagined. There was no love lost between either of them. The warden stood in front of the bars to Jet's cell, arms crossed, giving him a baleful glare.

"I'll say this only once, boy. The new Fire Lord is coming here tomorrow. This does not please me. He has specifically requested to see you. This pleases me even less. "

Jet's heart thudded in his chest, trying to process the significance of this news. His features, however, betrayed nothing. He picked at his teeth with a thumbnail, as if he had just had a fine roast duck for dinner.

"I don't know why he would want to see some insane Earth Kingdom peasant nor do I care. But let's get this straight. If you do anything to embarrass me or my men…" The warden paused as if collecting himself. A look of pure hate flashed across the man's face. "If anything untoward happens, you will not live long enough to regret it."

The warden spun on his heel and exited quickly. The fat guard fingered the club in his hand ominously then followed the warden, slamming the heavy metal door shut.

The new Fire Lord. What could he possibly want? All Jet knew of the man was that he had defeated his sister and took the throne from his deposed father, ending the war. He couldn't even think of the man's name. Taro? Zoki? He hadn't bothered to remember. Politics had left him behind. Could this be a chance for release, requested by the Avatar? Why then would the Fire Lord come himself?

He had been waiting eighteen months, three weeks and two days so far. He could wait one more to find out.

_____

The next morning the fat guard barged in without warning, nervousness radiating from every pore. "Get up, boy! Fire Lord Zuko is here to see you!"

Jet sat up on his bunk but made no other move to make himself presentable. The fat man gritted his teeth but did nothing as two Imperial guardsmen entered the room. Their masked faces swept the cell and apparently seemed satisfied, both stationing themselves on either side of the heavy door.

Jet swung his legs over the edge of his bunk, curiosity burning a hole in his stomach.

A hooded figure entered the room silently. Heavy silk robes, blood red, trimmed in fine gold filigree. So this was the Fire Lord. The shadows of the hood obscured his features. Seconds stretched in to minutes of silence as they studied each other.

"Leave us," came a gravel filled whisper. None of the guards responded.

Jet felt a small tickle in the back of his mind. _That voice._ It sounded familiar. He rose from his bed and moved closer to the metal bars of his tiny cell.

"Leave!" boomed the silk clad figure sharply.

The Imperial guardsmen bustled the fat man out of the room and disappeared themselves, door swinging shut behind them.

Jet saw the angular chin under the hood. Shaggy, unkempt hair obscured eyes from view. Odd for a Fire Lord, wasn't it?

"I am so sorry."

_That voice again_. Jet could hear the blood begin to rush past his ear drums in time with his heartbeat.

_No. No, it can't be. _

"I thought you were dead. We all thought you were dead."

The Fire Lord turned his face away from him as if in shame, hair falling to reveal *that scar*.

_Impossible_. _Another mind trick. Lake Laogai all over again._

"I would have come sooner if I had known. I had ordered a list drawn up of all war prisoners so we could work on securing their release."

His forehead was beading up with sweat. He put his hands up to the bars to steady himself as the world seemed suddenly to move underneath his feet.

"It was only last week that I saw your name. I had to come myself to be sure."

_You. It can't be you. I* have* gone insane._

He sank to his knees, staring at the red luxuriously robed hallucination before him.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" demanded the imaginary Fire Lord.

Jet closed his eyes and whispered, "You aren't real."

He heard the rustle of silk as his hallucination moved.

His eyes shot open in surprise as he felt hands reach between bars to grab his shirt, dragging him in as close as the bars allowed. He felt a warm, dry mouth cover his own. A wet tongue teased at his lips.

He stared wild eyed at Lee, no- _Zuko_, resisting for a moment. Heart pounding, he gave in, sucking on the tip of the tongue probing his mouth, relishing the feel of it.

After long minutes they finally broke apart, both panting for breath, foreheads pressed together.

Zuko still clutched at Jet's collar through the bars, keeping Jet close.

"I'm real."

_____

A/N Story inspired by a pic found on the insanely awesome Chinese language jet/zuko site .com/

that I rehosted here .

I have no ability to read or write in Chinese to contact the original artist. If you are the artist and wish me to take down the pic or this fic please let me know.

There is more of this story if people are interested.


	2. Chapter 2

There is both a piece of fan art on which this chapter is based as well as fan art that was created for this piece. Both links are in my profile. It is recommended that you follow those links after reading.

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Jet held on to the bars of his cell for dear life, not able to regain his footing. His brain was shutting down. It was simply too much. Too much all at once.

He bundled it up, stuffing all his thoughts and emotions in to one big box, sealed it tight. He'd deal with it later. Right now he needed to clear the haze from his mind.

"I'm getting you out of here." Zuko rose, pulling back the hood of his robe. "Guards!" The door burst open, Imperial guardsmen surveying the room, expecting an attack. The fat prison guard stood behind them, club in hand, expecting something very different from what he found.

Zuko turned his attention onto the prison guard. "Release this man. Now."

"What?!?" the guard spit out, furious. "My Lord, this man is a dangerous lunatic! You can't possibly mean…" The man trailed off, color draining from his face.

Zuko stared at him stonily, his lone thin eyebrow raised in all the warning the guard was going to get.

Silence. No one dared make a sound.

The guard finally found his voice. "Of… of course, my Lord. At once!" he said, bowing again and again. He fumbled for the heavy keychain at his belt, hands shaking as he searched for the correct key.

Jet stumbled to his feet. His limbs moved heavily, as if the air had turned to syrup. He felt sloppy, ungainly.

He hated it. _Leave now. Answers later._

He could smell the guard's nervous sweat as the now terrified man unlocked the cell door and pulled the door open.

Tentatively, Jet took two steps forward, the fat guard backing away from him as he did so. He tilted his head to look back at his former jailor out of the corner of his eye.

The guard flinched violently. Jet smirked and let out a determined sigh.

"Let's go," Jet said, as if annoyed his personal valet had taken so long to attend to him. He walked quickly out of the room, mask of bravado firmly in place.

-----------------

Jet sat at the prow of the massive airship. He let his legs dangle over the edge of the most forward facing platform that jutted out hundreds of feet above the ground. The view was astonishing.

He didn't want to blink, didn't want to miss a second of it. Snow capped mountains on the horizon far behind him. The volcanic crater of the Fire Nation capitol ahead in the distance. Tangled weave of jungle passing below his feet.

Trapped in his cell, he'd had dreams of being a great eagle, soaring through the sky just like this. He shivered a little in the cold upper atmospheric air. It felt good.

It helped remind him that he wasn't dreaming.

Free. Finally free. But was he really?

He could feel someone watching him.

"You know, as soon as you saw my scar you knew exactly who I was." A barefoot Lee _/Zuko he reminded himself/_ joined him on the metal platform, breeze ruffling his unruly hair.

Jet let out a cough of a laugh. "You must have thought I was a complete idiot for saying that."

"No." _Zuko_ settled in next to him on the manifold, letting his legs swing alongside Jet's. "Never. You knew I was an outcast. I had tried to deny it but you were right."

Jet looked up to study the inner workings of the airship, trying to look anywhere but at the man seated next to him. "I guess I was right about you being Fire Nation, too."

Zuko snorted. "It was kinda complicated."

They sat in silence for a while, watching the clouds pass underneath their feet. Jet let himself fall backwards, placing an arm underneath his head as a bolster. He used the opportunity to study the lines of the other man's back. His mind's eye was more than happy to supply a jumble of memories.

/Jet sucking on the pulse point on the Lee's neck, both of them frantically working at buttons, Lee's contorted face, pleading for release/

A particularly cold blast of air brought him back to the present. He wasn't sure where Lee ended and where this Zuko began. What was real and what had been camouflage?

Rather like with himself, really.

"We'll be at the capitol soon." Zuko said, wriggling his toes in the cold air, feigning indifference.

Even though Jet wasn't sure which man was in front of him, he still knew that both were terrible liars.

"So, what are you going to do with me?"

"What are you going to do now?"

Their questions to each other fell out of their mouths at the same time.

Zuko leaned back, propping himself on his elbows so they could see eye to eye. "'Do with you'?" he echoed. "I've already finalized the pardon for you. In the eyes of the Fire Nation, you're a free man."

Zuko's casual mention of his regal powers hit Jet like a punch in the gut. It was difficult enough to think that Lee the refugee really had been a member of the Fire Nation, but that this man…

/flash of Lee on hands and knees, eager. Jet's hand on Lee's hip, laughing at the other's impatience/

Jet jerked himself upright with a grunt. This man had battled back from eating rotten slop out of a broken bowl on a barge to Ba Sing Se to become the ruler of his people, ending war between nations. While he…

/There is no war in Ba Sing Se. Long Feng whispering "Do your duty, Jet." His body twisting and turning, no longer under his control./

Everything he had held to be gospel truth had been torn down. His sense of purpose had dried up with the end of the war, leaving him with nothing.

"I don't know what kind of man I am anymore," he said, curling his legs to his chest as if they would somehow help contain the turmoil in his mind.

He felt a warm hand on his shoulder. "C'mon. I want to show you something."

----------------

Zuko led him in to his private quarters, swinging the ornate double doors open wide.

Jet pulled up short, taken aback as he entered the room.

Red satins and silks, rich gold brocades everywhere. Zuko stood next to an ancient vase that stood taller than him, delicately painted with scenes of dragons in flight. A thick, woven Fire Nation flag covered the back wall. Peeking through the interior doors to the master bedroom, Jet could see a massive four poster bed filled with more pillows than he had ever seen in his life.

"It's a bit much, I know," said Zuko, sheepishly. "Especially after living in the level of poverty the war brought to people."

Jet splayed his fingers across the smooth, cool surface of the porcelain vase. ""Did you always live like this? I mean, "he paused to swallow. "Before?"

"Yeah." Zuko reached up to scratch his forehead, doing a poor job of trying to cover his embarrassment. "I've sort of lost my taste for it though."

Zuko decisively ended the topic by moving to a massive desk that Jet had failed to notice. Like everything else in the room, the detailing was obviously attended to by a master craftsman. Copper inlays intertwined with steel, branching and coming together again to represent flames making their way up the desk's sturdy legs. Lying across the top of the desk was a long black velvet bag, sealed with simple silk ties.

"I had hoped that the report on war prisoners was not a trick or a mistake." Zuko began to unwrap the silk ties with care.

Jet's curiosity was piqued. He hovered over Zuko's shoulder.

"I had these made just in case." Zuko set the silk ties down and swept a hand over the rich velvet of the bag.

"I know how much a weapon can become a part of you," Zuko continued. "How you can feel as if you are broken without them." Jet held himself very still, not even daring to hope. _It had been too long._

Zuko flipped back the folds of the velvet bag revealing a pair of brand new hook swords and stepped back to give Jet some space.

Jet let out a haggard breath, almost a sigh of relief at the sight of it. He passed a feather light touch over the tempered steel of the crescent guard. He couldn't look away. "Why?" he asked, fingering the finely tooled leather in the hand grips.

"Like I said, they're a part of you. It's important that you have them." Zuko shrugged. "And it's been two days since we left the prison. You haven't tried to kill me yet, so I figured it was safe to give them to you now."

Jet didn't realize he was holding his breath until it exploded out of him in a laugh. Jet opened up with a true smile. He eased himself into the padded chair next to the desk to inspect the swords further.

He still didn't dare pick them up.

"At least one thing stayed the same. You're still terrible at telling jokes,"

"It wasn't a joke."

Jet's head snapped up to look at the other man standing next to him.

"I didn't know what you would do after I came to find you." Zuko stared at the ground, letting his unruly hair mask his face with shadows. "I was pretty sure you hated me after the last time we met in Ba Sing Se."

Jet leaned back in the chair, trying to sort things out. His brain played through scenes at high speed.

/Holding each other, Lee warming his back as they sat on the refugee barge, making plans. The fight outside the Jasmine Dragon. His arrest. His re- programming./

It was time. He needed to stop trying to pretend. Everything he had kept sealed up tight came rushing to the surface.

He formulated his answer slowly as he tried to pick through his thoughts. "I felt betrayed that you lied to me. Never hated you." He shook his head as if to loosen the tangle of emotion in his mind.

_Say it. You can say it._

"I hated myself for having… feelings for a firebender." Jet suddenly felt exhausted. He slumped in the chair, wearily holding his head in his hands.

"I had always been so sure of what was right, what needed to be done. But since Lake Laogai." He contorted his face in pain as he forced himself to open up in front of the other man. "I can't be sure of anything. And I'm too tired to keep pretending everything's ok."

He felt Zuko come close, standing over him, then resting a comforting hand on his shoulder. With more energy than he thought he had, Jet grabbed Zuko's wrist, twisting the man's hand palm up.

"What?" Zuko half heartedly tried to extricate himself. "What are you doing?"

Jet's hands shook as he held Zuko's palm, staring at the long, thin fingers as if they held all the answers. He licked his lips, suddenly his mouth dry as bone.

"I need to see it. Please." He grimaced in preparation. There was no turning back now. "Show it to me."

Zuko's hand closed into a tight fist, as if in refusal of the request.

Then, without words, Zuko opened his hand, producing a small orange flame in the heart of his palm.

His heart raced as Jet watched the flame dance over the skin, never burning. He cupped Zuko's hand with his own, marveling at how warm the man's skin felt.

Fire had rained down to destroy his family and his village. That fire was now here in front of him at the command of the man who was giving him back his life. Here he had proof that Lee was truly dead and now, in flames, reborn.

Maybe there was hope for him as well.

He reached out with one hand to try and touch the tiny flame.

Zuko's hand snapped closed, snuffing out the flame. "I don't want to hurt you."

Decision made, Jet reached forward to pull Zuko to him. He leaned his forehead against Zuko's chest as he wrapped his arms around the man's waist. Zuko rested his chin on Jet's bowed head, lightly resting his hands on the other's shoulders.

"I know that now," Jet said, voice muffled as he pulled himself closer. "I know."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N This work of fiction was inspired by motoko and MTFY, talented fan artists at .com. There are artworks associated with all three chapters linked in my profile. It is recommended that you read each chapter before following the appropriate link.

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Steam curled up from the large bathtub, creating ghostly patterns in the small room. Jet balanced himself on the edge, testing the water with a sweep of his hand. The ripples doubled back on themselves, reflecting off the tub's current occupant.

"Perfect." He flicked the spray off his fingers at Zuko's quiet form, already steeping in the tub. There was no response from the laconic Fire Lord.

Jet stripped with an economy of motion and settled in to the water with a happy sigh. "I guess there's one advantage to being a firebender."

"Brat," murmured Zuko drowsily.

"Hmm. Is that all there action I get? Might have to get more aggressive." Zuko could feel the water move as Jet closed in on him. He stopped a hair's breath away.

Feather light, Jet passed his hands down the length of the firm body beneath him. He made a second pass, firmer, fingers searching. Zuko gasped as a callused hand wrapped around the half erect base of him.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" Zuko opened one eye to see Jet admiring his find.

"If I have to explain it to you then we've got problems,"Zuko spat out from gritted teeth. Jet grinned wickedly as he stroked Zuko into full hardness. He thrust hard into the hand, bringing his body to the water's surface.

Jet laughed. "So impatient! " He adjusted his hold on Zuko, one hand keeping Zuko afloat.

"Sometimes." Kiss just below the navel. "You've got to savor." Kiss on a pale thigh "The small things." Kiss on the other.

Scrape of light stubble across his hip bone got Zuko bucking again. "Who are you calling sm… ah.. small?"

He felt hands vanish and murmured a protest. There was no response. He worked his hips at empty air and whined in frustration.

A loud knock at the door. Zuko snapped his head up with a loud snort. He looked around wildly, splashing water as he did so. Disoriented, he tried to figure out what was happening.

Alone. He was alone.

He let out a long, slow sigh. Another dream.

A muffled voice could be heard through the door with a second hesitant knock. His valet. "Is everything all right my lord? You've been in there quite some time."

He tried to let his head fall back to rest on the lip of the tub but winced, stiff and sore in more ways than one. With a pruney hand, he tried to wipe the sleep from his eyes.

"I'm fine." His voice creaked. He cleared his throat. "Thank you.

"Do you need anything, my lord?"

"No."

/_Arching up, he wrapped his legs around the other man's waist, desperate to feel as much skin as possible/_

He groaned softly, feeling his arousal twitch. He tried to quiet the thrum of blood in his ears. "Nothing I can't take care of myself."

He automatically reheated the cool water, trying to loosen the kink in his neck. _Stupid_, he berated himself. He hadn't realized how tired he had been when he started his bath.

It would have been an ignominious end to Fire Lord Zuko's reign. Found dead, drowned in his bath with a hardon that would have lasted through his state funeral.

He lightly stroked himself, remembering. Even in dreams Jet was a smug bastard.

Though Jet hadn't really been the same when Zuko had found him.

He had watched Jet kneel to the ground as soon as the airship touched down, as he picked up a handful of soil.

"I need to go." Zuko had solemnly nodded at Jet's words, pretending to not want to rage and rail against them instead. "I need to know what's real, rebuild myself from the ground up." Jet let the loose dirt sift between his fingers.

"I need to find my destiny." That Zuko could understand.

Jet had grabbed him in front of the guardsmen and crew and kissed him. He had responded in kind, not caring who watched.

Since then: nothing. It had been three months and nineteen days since their return to the capitol, three months and nineteen days since the man disappeared.

There had been no sightings of him. His scouts had been ordered to keep an eye out for the man, so far without success.

He hoped Jet found what he needed.

Running a light hand over his midsection, he replayed the dream in his mind's eye. When he finally reached release, it was aching, bittersweet.

-----

Zuko's jaw worked in frustration, trying to school his features to passivity. "Are you absolutely sure Lieutenant?"

Nervousness oozed out the lieutenant's every pore. "Sir! Yes sir! I, mean, my lord! My squadron tracked the men back to a campsite just outside the capitol. Clearly earthbending activity! Sir! My lord!"

_Damn it_. _Dai Liagents here?_

It would have been naïve to think that their enemies would simply roll over and take their defeat. He hadn't expected them to rally so soon.

Zuko frowned in thought, scanning the scroll in his hands. Something was missing. His heartbeat quickened. "And about.... the other matter?"

"My lord, sir! No reports of a man matching the description you provided."

It ached, even with the months gone by. "Thank you, lieutenant." The scout master beat an awkward retreat, grateful for the dismissal.

Zuko tossed his writing brush to the desk in frustration. _Too much to think about._

Dai Li trying to infiltrate the Fire Nation. No way to arrest them without real proof. No way to close their borders without putting the other nations on edge.

And what would their intent be? Free his sister? She was housed nowhere near the capitol.

He had to be a target. And at the worst possible time.

The Fire Days festival opening ceremonies were fast approaching. An opportunity to show the Fire Nation celebrating in peace. Thousands would descend on the capitol to hear his words of welcome. Some eager, some curious. Some friend, some foe.

All eyes would be on him. All hidden behind masks.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. _Nothing could be simple, could it?_

-------------------------------

Hundreds of Aangs and Kataras filled the square before him. It was a little disconcerting, particularly the masks bearing his likeness; scar now on the correct side.

There was a special performances to packed houses of the hastily revised version of "The Boy in the Iceburg" in the large open air theater. He didn't have the heart to ban the show, no matter how badly he wanted to.

Rumors of the presence of the Dai Li did not seem to have kept the throngs away.

The play had everyone dressing like the Avatar and his friends. There were a lot of Sokkas and Tophs. Even those that weren't featured heavily in the show had their fans. He had almost inhaled his fire flakes when he had spotted a few Jets. He had been shocked at first, but clearly they were pale imitations of the original.

He was particularly bemused that even the Blue Spirit was popular. New stories of his alter ego's exploits were being told, turning the Spirit into a protector of the weak, a righter of wrongs. Hopefully it wasn't just thieves using the disguise to rob the rich, as he had once done. The people seemed to take comfort in it and he saw no reason to let them know about the Blue Spirit's inauspicious origins.

His security detail was furious when he refused to follow their recommendations to not appear at the festival. He couldn't be seen hiding behind their skirts. _No._ His enemies needed to know that he was unafraid no matter where he was.

It was time. Public speaking was something he was never going to enjoy and having a giant target on his back made matters worse. He nervously stepped up to the dais in the center of the square to begin the opening ceremonies. He took heart at the crowd's roar of delight.

He could still hear it, through the noise. _There_. The unmistakable sound of rock tearing itself from rock.

He crouched to ready himself, assessing which direction the attack wascoming from.

A black clad figure jumped into the path of the incoming rocks. It was a man wearing the mask of the Blue Spirit, shattering stones with blurs of steel.

Twin hook swords. _Here_? _Now_? _Can't be. _Unthinking, he stumbled closer to the swordsman. Another missile whizzed past his head without notice.

From within the crowd, a very masculine Katara raised a flaming fist in the air and yelled "They're trying to hurt the Fire Lord! Get 'em!" The crowd surged forward, shoving his own security detail to the side to get to his attackers.

Pandemonium. The swarm of bodies, bursts of flame, and flying rock everywhere.

In the mayhem, he lost sight of the masked man wielding the hook swords when a particularly hairy Aang jostled him from behind. Hairy Aang muttered a terse "Sorry!" then re-entered the fray, raining blows with the rest of the crowd on one unlucky earthbender.

He felt an arm go around his waist, tossing him to the ground on his rear.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed?" The familiar blue mask loomed over him, the familiar voice furious. The Blue Spirit mask slipped slightly. Jet tore it from his hooded face, anger barely held in check.

Zuko couldn't help but smile. Jet's hard expression softened.

Zuko held out his hand to let Jet haul him up to his feet. The two squared off, back to back, ready to face anything.

---------------------

"Ow." Jet sat up gingerly, cradling the bandages around his torso. "Ow, ow, ow, ow."

"Keep still, you baby," ordered Zuko, a tray of food in one hand, trying to shove Jet back with the other.

Jet evaded, stealing a rice bowl off of the tray, devouring it quickly. "This new type of dressing is really itchy," he complained, scratching at his side with his elbow, clearly not itchy enough to stop eating.

"Learn to duck next time and it won't be a problem." He set the tray down on the dresser by the bed.

"Yeah, well I was too distracted saving your scrawny ass," said Jet mumbled through a mouthful of rice.

"Sounds like you're feeling better," Zuko noted, grumpily. _Stop it!_ He chided himself. _Stop ruining what little time you probably have left_.

He passed his hand over his face to clear his thoughts and froze when he saw Jet's hand making a final sweep of the nearly empty bowl. Couldn't blink as the messy fingers moved to their owner's mouth.

_Stop staring_. He had to look away as Jet added a smirk to the act of loudly sucking his fingers clean. "Much better, thanks."

Zuko turned his back, directing his attention to the tray he had brought in hopes of hiding the flush that crept up his cheeks. With forced nonchalance he asked, "So, what are you going to do once you've recovered?" His mind unhelpfully added _Leave again?_ He pretended to fuss with the tea set he had brought with him to avoid looking too concerned.

"I'm not sure."

Zuko frowned at this response, trying to count the tiny flowers painted on the saucer's rim in an effort to stay calm.

"I think I've found someone."

Frown twisted into a deep scowl. The teacup in his hand came to a rolling boil. He dropped the cup with a curse, sticking his finger in his mouth to tend to the small burns caused by the scalding water.

"Or I guess I should say 'something'."

He was no longer listening, his heart heavy. _Why did I think my luck was going to change?_

There was a tug at his sleeve. He let himself be pulled in close, seating himself next to Jet on the cool sheets.

Jet spoke softly. "You know I couldn't stay.

He refused to meet Jet's eyes, knowing if he did he would come undone.

"But I think I've found it. What I need to become." Jet winced in discomfort as he shifted position on the bed. "I wandered from village to village at first. The war is supposed to be over but… there was always something. Someone would always be there to prey on the poor or the weak. The specifics were different but the problems were the same. People still need someone to help them."

Zuko held still as he felt Jet begin to idly stroke Zuko's thigh with his thumb.

"I didn't think people would accept help from some fugitive from the Earth Kingdom. I needed some other way to get people to trust me. There were these stories. Stories of a bandit who dressed up as a spirit. People already trusted him. So I decided to become him."

Zuko blinked rapidly, struggling to believe what he was hearing.

"I don't know why. It just seemed right somehow. It made me feel real again. I finally feel like I'm making a diff…"

He trailed off, noticing Zuko's face. He scooted closer to the suddenly beet red Zuko. "Are you ok?"

"You mean…" Zuko took a big gulp of air and tried again. "You became the Blue Spirit?" He gasped. "I thought that was just.." he let out a small hiccup. "a disguise for the festival!"

He was shaking with effort, trying to control himself. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jet's face light up. "You've heard of the Blue Spirit?"

_Nothing could be simple, could it?_

Laughter exploded out of him, his relief sending a pulse of heat through the room.

His laughter ended in a cry of surprise as Jet spun him around, settling Zuko into a straddle over the injured man's hips.

"It's good to hear you laugh." The husky note in Jet's voice made a shiver go up his spine. A tan hand crept up, releasing the silk ties of Zuko's robe, exposing pale skin and a well muscled thigh.

He could feel Jet shift underneath him. "You shouldn't be…" He lost track of his admonition when he felt a warm tongue trace a path up his chest.

Jet broke off to look up at him with a devilish twinkle in his eye. Zuko squirmed under the scrutiny.

He didn't want to imagine how he must look. Flushed, disheveled, open.

A callused hand reached up and tenderly cupped Zuko's neck. _Just tell him._ "It's good to have you back."

Jet's face clouded over for a moment with Zuko's words. A look of realization chased the clouds away and he broke into a contented smile. "Yes. I think I really _am_ back."

-end-


End file.
